Hey
by DustyAttic
Summary: Fiona died in the end of Library of Souls, but was this ever confirmed? What if she hadn't died, how would she have found her way back to the others? One-shot. Disclaimer: I don't own Miss Peregrine's Home
"Hey."

The word is so gentle in my ear, almost like a whisper but not quite there yet. I wonder if he knows what he's doing to me.

I turn and face Hugh, my best friend, the man that I love. He's wearing a big, goofy grin on his face and I can't help but smile back, as timid as ever.

After months of being presumed dead, I finally ran into a group of peculiars in a loop that cycled sometime through the 1430s. For the first time in over one hundred years, I spoke to strangers, told them who I was, asked them where to go. They explained that they'd heard rumors of loops collapsing all over peculiardom. "The peculiars in the loops are set on present time. They don't age forward, only as fast as everyone else."

Although this seemed miraculous at the time, I stayed inside their loop for almost a year, until, one day, a shudder ran through the small, European town and they began to run for the loop entrance. I followed, hoping, no, praying that I would be able to find my friends again if the time reset really happened.

Needless to say, it did. Once the loop collapsed, its other inhabitants and I began to age like normals, surrounded by wild new inventions and dressed in outlandish, fifthteenth century garments.

Immediately, I found my way to a currency exchange center. As it would turn out, mediocre amount of money I'd had on me in the loop was worth much, much more in this day and age. After getting all the money I'd need, I bought clothing, got my hair cut, and tried my hardest to blend in as I purchased an airplane ticket to America.

The flying machine terrified me, but I survived it and landed in Texas, one of the United States. Through a series of transportation's, I made my way back to Florida, where Jacob lives. I was praying to Bird the whole time that he would be there, or that they would all be there.

Upon arriving in Florida, I inquired after Jacob. "Oh, he was the kid that disappeared, right? Here's the phone book, you could find his address here," a man at an information center told me.

Finally, the day came where I stood on Jacob's doorstep, trembling with fear, and knocked.

A man answered the door. He looked young, with dark hair and green eyes. For a moment, we simply stared at each other, until his face broke into a grin and tears began to roll down his face. "Fiona?" the man whispered. I stared at him, not recognizing. "Oh, thank Bird, Fiona!"

Before I could protest, this stranger had pulled me into a tight hug. "It's me," he said into my ear after some time, "Miller. An invisible from this time figured out a way to turn it on and off. It's me. Oh, Fiona!"

After several reunions and many tears, I finally found Hugh in the backyard, with his bees.

He looked different. Two years in 2000s America, and he had shot up several inches, gotten a more modern haircut and outfit, and lost weight- probably stress. But he still wore his beekeeping goggles and hat. He was still Hugh.

I knew I looked different, too. My hair was shoulder length and pulled into a "pony-tail," my clothes were modern and my face was washed of all dirt. At once, I was afraid. What if he had moved on? In all honestly, he'd have been a fool not to.

More shy than I had ever felt around him, I approached Hugh from behind and tapped his shoulder lightly.

"What?" The boy said, turning towards me with the expectation of seeing somebody else.

I didn't move, only let him look at me.

"Fiona."

He whispered my name as a statement, his eyes wide with shock, and then gently reached out to touch me, as if I might shatter. Slowly, he found his way around my shoulders, pulling me close to his body breathing in the scent of my hair. I let him, not moving, and I could feel the drumming of his heart against my breast. "Is this real?" He finally continued. "I've had dreams, even in the day, but …"

"No," I responded fiercely, tightening my grip around him, "this is real."

And then he broke down, sobbing and holding me so hard I was afraid I'd stop breathing. "I thought I lost you," he repeated over and over again.

Weeks passed. We didn't rekindle our passionate romance at once, no, for many months we were content to just be near each other. We slept in the same bed, so tight to each other, one of us always waking the other with screams. It was almost a year after the day I returned when he finally kissed me again, his touch hesitant, but we grew more confident as time went on.

By the time we were nearing our "twenties," we knew each other in every way. Intimacy of the mind and body had been shared, and we loved each other more than life. "Fiona," he would sometimes whisper, and I would take his hand and assure him that I was right there beside him. We found a small cottage together away from society, and only accepted our closest friends as visitors. Emma and Jacob married, bringing into the world one child, then a second, third, and fourth. Alma is their eldest daughter's name, and their eldest son is called Abe. We remained in close contact with their family, along with Bronwyn, Olive, and Miller, but others, such as Horace, Enoch, and Claire began to drift out of our lives, although they still visit occasionally, and it is always a joyous time. Mrs. Peregrine is still alive and well. She has new wards, but promises that we will always have a special place in her heart, always be her very closest family.

Today, I am twenty-eight in terms of the real days that have passed in my life, and Hugh is thirty. I am heavily pregnant with our first, and possible only, child. And as I face him now, I cannot imagine being happier.

"Hey."


End file.
